winter morning
by pen237
Summary: Saya meets Creed as a child and decides that unusual things can be good sometimes. Sayacentric. slight SayaXCreed. COMPLETE


A/N: first fanfic (thought i ought to warn you) so be nice, and no flames please

Disclaimer: don't own black cat or any characters

* * *

It was one of those winter mornings in Hannan. Everything was gloriously white, and the air was pure and fresh. A handful of toddlers shrieked happily under impossibly bulky coats. Two crows cawed as they cut the air.

Saya took in a huge breath of the wintry air and held it in as long as she could before bursting out. She gave a greedy grin to the lunch pail clutched in her left hand. Inside were her usual two bottles of milk. She licked her dry lips. And she had even remembered to pack some onigiri this time. Her friends at school would want them, of course, and she'd give it to them. But not the milk. _Never_ the milk. She kicked up a bit of snow, humming loudly.

As she passed an alley, she saw something dark at the edges of her vision. She turned around, and saw a boy around her age, huddled against the wall of the alley in a thin wool coat. She stood, frowning at him. Who was he? What was he doing out in the cold, on a winter morning? Shouldn't he be going to school now?

He can't be from around here, she decided. If he was, he would know not to disturb the perfect balance of Hannan. Here, people never ventured out in the mornings, especially not in the winter. Mothers went to the marketplace on Friday afternoons and children bowed their heads to their knees before talking to adults. Everything was always concordant, and anything that wasn't was frowned upon. That was why Saya lived here. After her parents died, the peace of Hannan's everyday rituals calmed her mind and healed her heart.

So when she saw this unusual boy, she could only make a face and think about how annoying he was, and how she wished he would go away and leave the picturesque morning as before.

But she kept watching, curious if not totally pleased with this disturbance. Gradually, she realized with wide eyes that he was crying. His head was bent over his arms, and his body trembled with desperation to keep in his sobs. Every few seconds, she heard a poorly repressed sniffle.

As she watched, she felt her irritation dissipate. She raised a hand to her face and tapped her chin in consideration.

'Why's he crying?' she wondered. 'Why would he cry in this village?'

After this went on for another minute, she felt like she had to do something. She took a step forward and stopped herself.

'Wait a second,' she thought, her brow furrowing. 'I'm gonna be late to school, and then Mizumi-san will yell at me, and I'll get detention.'

This made her stand still, and she was pretty sure for a moment that she could get to school without giving the boy a second glance. But looking at the pitiful sight before her, she felt like something was gnawing at her heart. Soon, she just gave in.

'Because,' she reasoned to herself, 'this will bother other people if I don't stop it.'

Unsteadily, she began to walk towards him. When she was about two feet from him, he looked up abruptly and took a sharp breath. His eyes, which she noted were red and watery, widened noticeably. Saya realized with shock that the white tufts underneath the hood of his coat were his _hair_.

After she realized that he had been staring at her for a while, she flushed a bit and grinned hesitantly.

"Ohaiyou…um…you…ya want some?"

And before she knew it, she was holding out a bottle of strawberry MooMoo brand milk an inch underneath his nose. He stared at it. So did she, with some horror. Strawberry milk was her favorite! She had to drink it every day at lunch. What was she doing, offering it to this strange boy?

But just as she was about to withdraw it, he carefully wrapped his fingers around the bottle's neck. Her thoughts scattered, and she let go, grinning warmly as he took a tiny sip.

She studied him as he drank. He was pale and his lips were chapped, probably from the cold. But he didn't seem too bothered by the cold, even with nothing more on than his pants and a sheer coat. Tilting her head, she tried to guess his age. Ten? Eleven? In any case, he couldn't be much younger than she. And his hair… She frowned. It was way too white to be real. In the sunlight, it was even brighter than the snow around them.

She blinked as she realized he was holding out the bottle, half-empty, and looking at her. His expression was blank, but she still found herself entranced. His eyes were nothing like the others at Hannan. Hannan's residents had warm, docile brown eyes. This boy…his eyes were bluer and stormier than a sea during a tempest. They were strange and nothing like she'd ever seen. Feeling afraid and repelled by these eyes she'd never seen, she almost moved back a step.

But she snapped back immediately, realized that he was giving her a funny look, and automatically held out her hand. Flushing, she put the bottle back into her pail. After clearing her throat a bit first, she asked,

"So what are you doing out here anyways?"

It was stupid to ask that. Saya knew before the words left her mouth. When the boy's eyes hardened and his head turned away, she felt like hitting herself on the head.

"Never mind," she said quickly, grinning widely. "You want some onigiri?"

He didn't say anything. His head was bowed, and he swallowed his hiccups as quietly as he could. Realizing that he was just going to ignore her, Saya crouched clumsily beside him and put her knapsack beside her.

The wind was starting to pick up, and she saw a few flakes land on her coat and gloves as she took out her bento.

"I don't need your help," he said suddenly. Saya stopped and swallowed thickly.

"I'm not trying to help you," she smiled weakly. "Just want to spend some time with you." Then, her face dissolved into a real smile. "And, uh, you've got nice eyes. Never seen any like them."

It worked. The boy reddened dangerously, and he didn't say any more.

Saya continued, offering him an onigiri, "Aren't you gonna go to school?"

"No," he said, taking the onigiri cautiously.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Don't need it," he said.

"Don't need it?" She watched him try to get the onigiri down his throat in less than three bites.

"Sure"—he choked a bit and recovered—"I'm pretty smart anyways."

"Yeah?" she asked curiously. It wasn't everyday you found a kid in Hannan who didn't go to school. All the kids she knew were forced to go by their parents. Except herself, of course, since she didn't have any parents.

"Then," she continued, "do you know how to do…_this_?"

She pulled out her math homework in a flash and waved it in front of him, nearly losing it the wind. He took hold of it, scanned it halfheartedly, and handed it back to her.

"Number forty-three's wrong," he said. Saya hadn't believed that anyone could make you embarrassed after crying in front of you, but she was wrong. She was getting a lot of surprises this morning, she thought, wondering if she minded or not.

"I know a lot for a kid," the boy continued. He got up, white hair whipping crazily around his head. "So, thanks for the food. Could I have another—?"

Her hand shot out with her last onigiri before she could stop it. He blinked, but took it and scarfed it down in a single bite. There were a few grains of rice near his mouth, and Saya took care not to wipe it off.

"Your mom makes great onigiri…um…?"

"Saya." She got up. "And I made it. Okaa-san taught me though, 'fore she left."

He seemed staggered by her reply, and his face darkened, but when he spoke, his voice and face were unaffected.

"My mom calls me Hiroto," he replied, "but my real name's Creed."

She hesitated a bit, wondering why he wouldn't want a name his own mother gave him. But she brushed the thought away and nodded.

"Nice meeting you, Creed," she said. "You ever want to talk or something, I live just a little while from here, over there." She pointed to a row of tiny brown shacks. "So come visit, 'kay?" She gave him an encouraging smile.

He shrugged and mumbled a "maybe" before drawing his coat closer to his body and turning away.

"Bye!" Saya called out.

Creed turned and looked at her. Even though it lasted only a few seconds, his look sent a strange shiver through her neck. Then, suddenly, he showed the slightest shadow of a smile. She was so surprised that she forgot to smile back.

"Bye," he said.

And he left, walking near the buildings to get away from the wind.

She watched him for a full twenty seconds before glancing at her watch. Even if she ran to school, she would be five minutes late. She looked up beyond the clouds to the blue patches peeking through. Although she knew her teacher would be furious, she wasn't so worried, surprisingly.

She started walking again, more slowly. The cold wind lifted her hair, so she took out her woolen cap and pulled it on.

Her mind felt shaken. His smile. That wasn't supposed to be part of her winter mornings. In the mornings, she was supposed to skip to school happily, arrive on time, and chat with friends before studying like mad. They never included comforting a crying stranger.

She huffed a bit, trudging angrily through the snow. Her friends had often told her she was too nitpicky, that she should loosen up a little. But, to her, habits were important. She depended on them, especially after she was left alone.

She shouldn't have stopped walking to school, she thought. She shouldn't have given him her milk. She shouldn't have given him onigiri. She shouldn't have talked. She shouldn't have smiled.

If she hadn't, maybe everything would be okay. She could be on time at school and she could give onigiri to her friends and she could drink that nourishing, reassuring milk, which she needed more for her mind than her health.

But suddenly, she thought about the Creed—how his white fingers slowly reached around her cherished bottle, the index finger first and ring finger last. How his dark, tempestuous eyes seemed to plead for attention. How he blushed when she admired them. How he nearly smiled as he said goodbye.

Her angry breathing slowed, and the air around her grew quiet. She smiled faintly.

Maybe…maybe only once in a while….she could skip a few habits. Just for that vestige of a smile.

* * *

It was one of those winter mornings in Tokyo. Everything was gloriously white, and the air was pure and sweet. A handful of toddlers shrieked happily under impossibly bulky coats. Two birds sang as they swept through the air.

And on the rooftop of her apartment, Saya Minatsuki sang, knowing a sad boy nearby was listening.


End file.
